The Rose Warrior
by Ireland Ranger
Summary: Cearul, a warrior who literally bears the mark of the rose, lives a winding life. Adventure greets him, though he prefurs to shun it. Blood is on his paws, though he never wanted it and those who mean something to him are always at risk. He doesn't want revenge, he doesn't want fame or glory, he only wants peace. Rated T for torture and violence, also very light language
1. Of My Life

**Of My Life**

* * *

I have lived though many adventures and pains in my life. I have had, and lost friends dear to me. I have been betrayed, tortured and once, almost murdered. Some know me as the 'Rose Warrior'. I must say, I never planned on being a warrior of any kind. But the name suites me to an extent. I am indeed, the 'Rose Warrior' by blood and fire.

My birth name is 'Cearul', which means 'fierce in battle'. I never wanted to go to war, be a soldier and kill other beasts. But I hardly had a choice. My father swore me into an army at his death. I vowed myself into it because I loved him. But personally, I just wanted to live my life as a traveler. Helping out a few beasts here and there, just live my life. In a way, my father stole my life, stole my dreams and wishes. I never wanted to kill, yet because of him I am a warrior and killing is my life. It's plain now, I am a warrior, a very scarred and lonely warrior.

It seems that we are all like that, we warriors. It seems that fate loves to mock us and our very existence. We are looked to as powerful and strong beasts, beasts without fear. They say we laugh and mock death as we go to fight. In truth, they make us as gods. However, nothing could be further from the truth.

Let me tell you what we are by describing us. We are marked, lonely, hurt, tortured and maimed beasts that have a nearly unbearable weight on our shoulders. We are expected to be great and fearless. We are cheered and praised in our triumphs, our backs are patted and we receive grand smiles from our admirers. One could say we have a great life…But, if we make the slightest mistake, we are slammed at all sides for not meeting out 'required' standards. They forget that we are but mere beasts as well, only meant to protect our kind to the best of our ability. They abandon us and leave us to 'regain' their respect. It's as though they make themselves greater then all by such deeds and it only harms us.

Some of us fought for freedom. Some of us fought for justice. Some just fought for glory, but me? I have literally fought for love and friendship as well as those things. I suppose it suites me, being the Rose Warrior to long for love. But can you blame me? I am tempted to say that I have suffered far more then any other beast. However, I know that is not true. I have suffered slavery, imprisonment, torture, loneliness, loss, betrayal, humiliation and much, much more. But yet I feel as though I have no right to complain of such things. Call me a depressed squirrel if you want, but it's true. I believe that there are those in the world who have more right to suffer then I could ever have. At least I'm still alive to say that my life meant something. Others don't survive the journey, I have known such beasts. And it is those same beasts that have every right to complain. Even though some of them have made the ultimate sacrifice.

We all have our dreams. Mine were stripped from my paws in my young life, but even then I dreamed. Yet, sometimes I wish that I could not dream, because it makes us expect something out of an event. When things go topsy turvy, we don't know what to do because we have not even considered such things happening. And that is the story of my life. It winds and curves around unexpected turns, leaving me confused.

You are about to read the story of my life...my adventure filled life.

* * *

**_Yea, bounty hunter's not done, neither is Captured in the Dark…but I've been good with updating So don't shoot me! Besides, as long as I keep up with them all its ok right?...right? RIGHT? Though I think this is my last post before summer-may not be-but just in case...HAVE A GREAT SUMMER!_**


	2. The Mark of the Warrior

**The Mark of the Warrior**

* * *

Cearul spat a mouthful of blood into his captor's face. It had been the only defiance he had shown during his beating. The weasel had been pounding him mercilessly and the squirrel was just sick of it. He grimaced as the vermin punched him in the gut, and then growled and enclosed his paw around the chained squirrel's neck, leaving the prisoner to gasp for air.

"Yer gotta learn respect fur yer betters." The vermin spat as he slammed Cearul's head against the wall and glared into his eyes. "Yer want anoder meeting with der cat?"

The squirrel bared his teeth in reply and made to bite the weasel's paw. He would rather die then have another 'session' with his tormenters. Then again, the weasel _had _just been telling him about how his friends were to be tortured, slowly, so the rage he held was completely selfless.

Barely escaping the snapping fangs, the weasel roared in fury.

"Dat's it!" He crushed Cearul's throat further and turned towards the cell door. "Bludgut and Carcus, get your rear ends in 'ere!"

In a few moments a rat and a stoat entered the cell looking extremely tired.

"Wot's der madder now, Killpaw?" Whined the rat. "We jist got asleep!"

Killpaw grabbed Cearul's scruff and unhooked his chains from the wall above the squirrel's head. The captive immediately began to struggle and growl. Hiscarmeleyes flashed angrily as the Bludgut and Carcus helped restrain him. They slapped him around a bit and added a few kicks to settle him, but the squirrel ignored his pain and writhed furiously in their grasp. Soon he was face down on the floor, spitting fire and curses.

"'e's mad I tell yer!" Carcus said as he barely escaped the squirrel's snapping teeth.

Bludgut reached into his satchel and produced a small length of rope. Tossing it to the stoat as he pinned Cearul's arm down with his knee, he cursed.

"Tie 'is muzzle shut while we've got 'im pinned!"

Carcus grabbed the squirrel's headfur and forced the beast's head back. Cearul growled and tried to sink his fangs into the stoats arm as the vermin clamped his mouth shut. It took a long while, but the squirrel's muzzle was finally bound shut tightly. The captive seemed to be running out of energy, for his struggles weren't as strained and strong as before. Besides, his only defense had been stilfed.

"C'mon." Killpaw said, dragging the squirrel painfully by his scruff. "Vurshal wants t'see 'im."

Pulled through the stone hallway of the dungeon, Cearul watched as cell after cell passed. He wondered how many beasts like him were contained in them. Except for the patting of paws on the stone floor the prison was silent and dreary. It was a melancholy silence, horrible and terrifying for those held captive there. He'd been imprisoned long enough to name every guard and torturer the castle held, yet still he had not given them what they wanted.

The squirrel's heart began to beat with extreme speed as the group came to one particular door that he hated seeing. As Killpaw opened the door, the captive began to struggle wildly again. He was not about to let them put him though hell once more. He still bore the scars from the last session and he wasn't about to let them give him more.

Carcus, Killpaw and Bludgut expected the squirrel to become frantic upon arriving at the torture chamber. Every victim tried desperately to get away as they neared that door. The trio held him firmly as the drug him into the gloomily lit cell.

As they entered the chamber, Cearul closed his eye tightly. He didn't want to see the instruments of horror that lined the walls. He didn't think that he could take another session of brutally long hours of pain. He'd resisted telling what they wanted so far, but he didn't know how long he could keep it up. The last time, he nearly let the information escape his lips and literally had to bite his tongue to prevent himself from screaming the answer out to make them stop. He'd seen his blood on their paws and that memory had scarred him for life.

He felt himself be dropped to the ground, but he kept his eyes shut. He could hear the soft, terrifying purr of the wildcat that had caused him so much pain.

"Well, well, what have we here?" The slick voice made the squirrel's stomach lurch horribly, nearly causing him to vomit. "Causing more trouble are we, Cearul? I can take him from here. You three are dismissed."

There was the sound of shuffling paws, followed by the clatter and slam of a door, making Cearul wince. The last thing he wanted was to be left alone in the same cell as a bloodthirsty wildcat.

He hissed silently as he felt a strong paw grip his scruff and haul him from the ground.

"Ready, treeclimber?" The voice said cheerfully.

Cearul didn't struggle or try to break from the grasp as he was carried across the room. It hadn't helped him in the past and it wouldn't help him now. It wasn't that he was resigned to whatever his fate may be. It was more rather that he was just tired of giving his captors something to laugh at and perk their spirits up. Besides, he needed his strength for what was to come. The unavoidable future of pain. The more he struggled, the more they would torture him.

He felt himself lifted to a flat surface and his stomach lurched again, tying itself into horrible knots. He opened his eyes as a big, grey wildcat clamped his paws down to the table, making him immobile. He met the cat's cruel gaze and instantly closed his eyes again. How he hated those glowing green orbs! They terrified him unceasingly in his dreams. The next thing he knew the rope bruising his muzzle had been cut.

"Now..." Cearul opened his eyes to see the wildcat's back to him. He was looking over the tools of his trade, deciding which would be the best to use on the squirrel. "Have you finally decided to tell me what we want to know? It would save you a lot of pain, you know."

Cearul bit his lip and slowed his quick breathing.

"No." He said in a groggy, but firm voice. He knew that the information he had held the lives of many more beasts then just him at their pity. Giving them all away just because of his own pain and torment could hardly be right.

"Shame." Vurshal said in a level tone. "I suppose you don't have enough sense to realize when you're beaten."

When the cat turned around Cearul's heart skipped a beat. The cat held a long iron rod with gloved paws. Its use was obvious and the squirrel thought he was going to faint from horror. His body began to involuntarily shake. He watched in terror as the cat stoked a small fire with the rod and then added a few logs.

"The more fuel, the hotter." He said sadistically, absorbing the squirrel's fear like a cruel sponge. Vurshal placed the rod so that it was halfway in the fire and then waltzed over to his trembling victim. "Just tell me what we want and you'll be spared of the pain. You have the power to prevent this."

Cearul, though terrified of what was to happen to him, knew his duty. He had made a promise, and he would keep it. Weakly, unwillingly, he shook his head.

Vurshal shrugged carelessly and waited awhile by his victim before he retrieved the rod. The metal was glowing red and smoking lightly. The squirrel tried uselessly to shift away as the cat drew near. The cat smirked and deliberately lowered the rod towards Cearul's arm in a slow matter. The squirrel broke into a horrible sweat and turned his head away, squeezing his eyes shut and awaiting the burning pain to rush up his arm.

"You can stop this." The slick voice of Vurshal hissed. "Tell me."

Cearul struggled for breath in fear and let out a shuddered sigh.

"N-n-no."

"Fine." The wildcat sneered, pressing the rod on his victim.

He felt a fiery pain absorbed his arm, burning his fur and melting his skin. He had never felt such horrible anguish in his entire life. In heated agony, the squirrel screamed.

* * *

Screams echoed through the halls of the dungeon. Serian shut his eyes and allowed tears to slip down his cheeks. He buried his face in his arm as another cry of pain went through the prison, causing terror to prick at his spine. He knew who the tortured beast was and he felt horrible at not being able to help him.

"It's alright Serian." A gentle, yet firm voice said. "Have faith in Cearul."

Serian looked up at the mouse chained across from him. The chocolate furred beast was hard to see in the blackness of the cell, but he could make out the outline. They had been friends for many long seasons, living though sunshine and rain together. Now they were in hell, and their friend was being treated as the scum of the earth.

"I do..." The squirrel said with a shiver. "But...he's in such agony..."

"Cearul is a noble beast." The mouse stated grimly. "He's a good soldier. He knows his duty. He's willing to suffer rather then let others die."

Serian rubbed his arms in an attempt to gain warmth as another scream echoed though the cell. Whatever they were doing to him, it must be horrible.

"I know...what do you suppose they're doing to him, Quad?"

The mouse sighed and scooted next to the squirrel. He placed his paw on the squirrel's shoulder and spoke in the best reassuring voice he could find.

"Don't think on that. He wouldn't want you to."

Serian looked into the mouse's face. Even in the dark he could make out the sadness on the beast's features.

"How are we getting out of this one, Quad?" He asked grimly. "Cearul's always been the one with the bright ideas and he's...he's not even with us!"

Quad stared at the squirrel awhile before he put his head against the cell wall and sighed as another cry ran through the air. Closing his eyes, he voiced the thoughts he had been trying to avoid since the screaming had begun.

"Cearul would want us to escape."

Serian looked at the mouse as though he had been slapped.

"_Leave_ Cear? Are you mad?"

"No, I'm not." Quad said plainly. "There's no way we could develop a plan that involves getting Cearul free. He would want us to leave him."

Serian growled angrily.

"Are you _listening_ to what he's _going through_? I'm not going to leave him here to be their_ plaything_, Quad! I'm surprised that you could even think of such a thing!"

"This isn't only about Cearul, Serian!" The mouse snapped back. "I hate the very idea of leaving him here to suffer but we hardly have a choice. Our duty is to escape and report to the army!"

"_My duty_ is to stay and help Cearul!" The squirrel hissed. "He never wanted to be in the bloody army anyway! The only reason he hasn't told them anything is because he's true to his word! I'm not going to abandon him just because of 'our duty' to the damn army! Come on Quad! He's being_ tortured_ and you want to _leave_ him so that they can do it whenever?"

"Ian please..."

"No Quad!" The squirrel growled, cutting off the mouse. "I won't leave him! Do what you like, but I'm staying!"

With that Serian turned his head away and wept as another scream ran through the halls.

* * *

Cearul grit his teeth as the burning pain in his arms and shoulders flamed. Tears of agony escaped from his eyes and ran down his face to fall upon the wooden table he was camped to. His vision was blurred and his throat was ached and dry from his agonized screams. He doubted he could take much more. Still, he tried to close his mind to his tormenter's slick, clean voice.

"Just tell me and I'll let you go back to your cell and be healed."

"N-no." The squirrel said in a quiet, labored breath and then screamed painfully as the wildcat pressed the burning rod into his left shoulder, right over an old wound.

"_Please, please stop!_" The squirrel cried in sheer anguish.

"Tell me where they are to meet and I'll stop."

A fresh flood of hot tears ran down Cearul's face.

"_Please...I can't! Please stop! Take it off, PLEASE!_"

"Tell me, squirrel!" The cat scowled, pressing on the rod so that Cearul screamed louder.

"_I CAN'T! PLEASE, PLEASE_ _STOP!"_

Vurshal sneered and pulled the iron away.

"You're a determined little treerat." He hissed as he watched the squirrel sigh in miserable relief and bite his lip in pain. "Perhaps you need something a bit more...'creative' then, eh?"

Cearul watched wearily as the cat went out of his view. He didn't know what the monster had in mind, but it was sure to be painful. He closed his heavy eyelids and clenched his paws like he had been doing each time he was burned. His palms were bleeding from where his claws had pierced the skin. He was so tired. He just wanted to go to sleep...escape the horrible pain. He even found himself even wishing he would die. But that was a lost hope. The wildcats wouldn't kill him, not yet. He still held the location of where his leaders were to meet.

Groaning, the squirrel opened his eyes. Vurshal was standing by him again. He hadn't heard him come back? He supposed that didn't really matter though. Everything was becoming cloudy and blurry…there was a loud ringing in his ears...

"Come on." The smooth voice growled as a bucket of freezing water was splashed in Cearul's face. "I still need you awake."

The squirrel jolted from the near-unconscious state he had been fluttering in and returned to his pain. His wounds burned like hellfire, while the rest of his body shivered in the cold air, damp from the icy water applied.

"I have a _very_ special tool for you, squirrel." Vurshal grinned his sadistic smile while he spoke. "Lord Kirndoul had it specially made for you. Lets say, 'its torture with a touch of sweetness', shall we?"

Cearul gasped in terror as the cat held up a heated metal, shaped like a budding rose and just as red. In pure and utter terror he squirmed to get free of his restraints, his wounds screaming in protest and bleeding terribly.

"Please..." He was begging without shame now, pleading for mercy. "Please don't...I can't tell you...I w-would if I could but...I.."

"You made a _promise_?" The cat purred in amusement. "Yes, so you've said before...but.." He lifted the rose-shaped iron. "..don't you want to end the pain?"

"Please don't!" Cearul was quaking visibly in fear. He knew there was no escape. "I can't...I can't tell you..."

The cat rolled his eyes.

"You really want this pain?"

The squirrel's eyes were transfixed on the iron, but he still, painfully knew his duty.

"N..no..." He sighed, tears running free. "I..I...just..I...can't..."

"So be it." Vurshal smirked as he slowly applied the cruel, heated device to Cearul's chest.

The squirrel let out a long scream of agony as the iron made contact with his skin. His chest sent sparks through his nerves to register in his brain. The pain was far worse then any of the other wound he had been given. The sizzling of flesh and the sound of Vurshal's cackling were the last things he remembered before falling into craved unconsciousness.

Vurshal growled in annoyance as he realized his captive had passed out seconds after he had been burned. Removing the gore covered iron from the squirrel's chest and tossing it aside, he called for Killpaw.

The weasel arrived as the wildcat was unclamping the tortured squirrel from the table. His eyes fell upon the horrifying wound on the beast's chest and he gulped. The smell of burnt flesh and fur still hung in the air, making the vermin want to vomit.

"Here, take the damn treerat to his cell then fetch the healer." Vurshal said lifting Cearul's form from the table and placing him in Killpaw's arms. "Lord Kirndoul doesn't want this one to be a corpse just yet."

* * *

_**Alright, alright! I know! I HAVENT EVEN FINISHED MY FIRST STORY! Well...heres the deal (I can see you giving me those looks of disbelief) I've decided to TRY to work on this during the summer, regardless of what I said (yes, now your shouting 'LIAR'!) Truth is, I'm working on Forest Rangers offline, so don't send out your assassins to murder me in my sleep, I WILL BE TRYING TO UPDATE ALL MY STORIES!...oh yes...and I'm sick again HARRAH! MORE FANFICTION!**_


	3. Lord of the Castle

**Lord of the Castle**

* * *

Cearul sighed and tossed a pebble at the opposite wall. The small stone made contact with a soft clinking sound before dropping to the stone floor. He flicked his tail in boredom as he picked up another pebble from the floor and threw it, aiming for a particular brick that he had chosen in random. He missed and grumbled under his breath, pulling on his chains for slack because they had taken off his aim.

Suddenly a cry ran through the corridor and filled the cells. Somebeast was in the torture chamber. The squirrel squeezed his eyes shut and his paw shot instinctively to his chest. After a moment, the shout died away and Cearul found himself panting. He looked down at his chest and quickly drew he paw from the horrid scar as if it had been stung. The ghastly shape of a rose burned into his skin lay scarred on his chest for life. It was the mark that had nearly cost him his life and it still bothered him mercilessly.

_"Torture with a touch of sweetness..."_

Cearul shook slightly and rested his elbows on his knees. Putting his head in his paws the squirrel sighed deeply. He wanted nothing more then to forget what he had suffered and to be rid of the horrible scars left on his body. He hadn't told them what they wanted...until the date of the meeting had passed. Then again, he had been hardly in any state to tell anyone anything. Oh they had been angry with him. So angry that they had had him whipped, starved and left to rot in his cell. Although he would have liked to have been given more bread and water, he was grateful that they had left him alone for the past few weeks.

Suddenly the cell door creaked open and Killpaw walked in, a sneer over his face.

"Get up 'scurrel!" The weasel growled, gabbing Cearul's arm and hauling him up. "Lord Kirndoul wants to see yer."

Cearul bared his teeth at the vermin and growled, but allowed himself to be pushed from the cell. The moment he stepped from his prison, he turned, swinging his chained paws with all his strength. In a quick collision, Killpaw was unconscious and the squirrel was kneeling by his form, searching for the keys to his cuffs. It didn't take him long to find them and free his mangled wrists. He rubbed them and grinned slightly to himself. It had been a long while since the last time he could move about freely without the weight of metal on his wrists and it felt wonderful.

"Now, now, planning on going somewhere?" A voice said from behind the escaping captive. Cearul's heart leapt, he noticed the sliding voice instantly. "Come Cearul, get away from the jailer..._now_."

Cearul actually hesitated obeying Vurshal's order. Any other creature would have done his bidding without question, knowing the horrors the cat could inflict on them. But Cearul just wanted his freedom, and he was willing to do whatever he had to do get it. Even then, he knew he couldn't defeat the wildcat...in truth, his short-lived luck had run out.

"No." The squirrel growled. He was sick of that cat's dominant way of acting. Nothing could get him to obey the blasted feline.

"No?" Vurshal spat. "_No? _After all this time under my _care_ you dare to defy me with _no_?"

Cearul stood up and turned to meet the wildcat's cold gaze. He instantly noted that the torturer was flanked by two other cats. However, that didn't change his mind.

"Do what you like, fleahide, I said 'no'." He sneered in defiance. "The only care you ever gave me were the marks burned and cut into my body."

"He's a bold little creature, isn't he?" The orange wildcat on the torturer's right stated with an impassive face. He studied the squirrel with keen green eyes and then nodded to the third cat. "Get him."

* * *

The wildcats had had no trouble getting a hold of the squirrel down in the dungeons. Cearul was weak from malnourishment and could hardly fight. Now he struggled feebly to break from the large wildcat that held him. He knew it was a useless battle, but he fought anyway. It was better then just giving in.

He squinted under his blindfold and strained his paws that were now bound in front of him with rope. He nearly felt exposed and helpless. Though, despite being blinded, he carefully followed their path of their directions. Left, right, left, up some stairs, right, stairs, a door being opened...He winced as he heard Vurshal's voice begin to speak.

"Lord, here is the prisoner you asked for."

"Good." A dry, flat and emotionless voice said, sending shivers down Cearul's spine. "Now leave us."

In a split second, the squirrel was dropped carelessly to the floor. Then the sound of shuffling paws and the closing of the door was heard. After that, there was nothing but silence. Cearul began trembling, he couldn't help it really. He was a brave beast at heart, but his captivity had always left him guessing. He was never sure what the wildcats had in mind. One moment they were smiling, the next, they were torturing you to death.

"Stand, squirrel." The flat voice said, causing the captive to gulp and obey the order rather quickly.

The squirrel stood wondering before the blindfold was suddenly ripped from his eyes and Cearul found himself staring into the emotionless face of a large, grey wildcat. He had dark, dark blue eyes and black stripes along his body, as though several ink feathers had raked his body. The beast leaned forward and Cearul's heart froze as the large cat cut his bonds with his razor sharp, midnight black claws.

"There is no need for you to be bound in my presence." The Lord hissed quietly. "I could kill you easily if you tried anything. Now come, sit." The wildcat made a gesture towards a table, covered in dishes and platters of different foods.

Cearul was completely confused by the order, but obeyed it anyway. He didn't need his neck cracked anytime soon, or ever for that matter. Casting a wary glance at the cat, he sat down in the chair that wildcat had issued to him, soon followed by the grey beast.

"I wished to speak to you about your future, squirrel." The wildcat said, filling his plate with assorted foods. Cearul couldn't help but watch hungrily as the vermin ate before him. He'd been surviving on starvation rations from the first day he'd been captured and that was weeks ago.

Forcing himself to forget the food he looked down at his paws and rubbed his sore, scarred wrists.

"What's there to talk about?" He stated blankly. "You're going to kill me and that's that, no ties."

The grey wildcat actually smiled, though Cearul decided he preferred the beast _not_ to show so many sharp fangs at once...

"You don't like to cut corners do you?"

The captive met the cat's gaze without emotion.

"No, I don't."

The wildcat smirked. He liked the squirrel's outright and strong nature. He wasn't going to just back down and submit to them without a fight. He had already proved that during his time in the torture chamber and not many beasts were able to withstand pain the way he did. He liked a beast with a strong willpower.

"Your name's Cearul, right?"

"What?" The squirrel sneered. "Don't even know the names of your own prisoners?"

The cat laughed coldly and then grinned at the captive.

"Careful there, squirrel." He said with a light tone. "I could have you punished for displeasing me. I _am_ the Lord of this castle, you know. I could have you tortured to death in the most horrifying ways with just the wave of my paw."

He waved his paw to emphasize his point and Cearul felt a twang of pain from the scar on his chest. His paw shot to the burn immediately. Catching the wildcat's eye, he instantly noticed his mistake and dropped his paw. Feeling as though he had shown weakness, he looking away from the cat's gaze.

"Yes," Lord Kindoul said seriously. "-you already know this. You know I loath those who keep information from me...well remember that I also despise those that show me disrespect."

The striped cat picked up a cup of wine and sipped it. The look of thirst in the squirrel's eyes did not miss his attention. Again, he felt respect for the creature. The captive may have been hungry, but he had a mind power that conquered his hunger. Even though the cat could see that the beast was starving, as his ribs showed and his face was thin, the squirrel would not admit defeat and lay before his captors in submission.

"Where are my manners, would you like something to eat or drink?" The wildcat asked politely.

Cearul eyed the cat suspiciously and then looked at the food. He thought of his two friends down in the dungeon cells beneath him and rage filled his soul. How dare the cat have anything to eat while they lay down there, barely surviving on moldy bread and lukewarm water. He clenched his paws and glared hatefully at the Lord.

"No. I don't eat with scumbags."

For a moment, there was a flash of anger in the cat's eyes and Cearul thought that he had just stepped the line. But to his surprise, a grin quickly spread over the lord's face.

"You really plea for punishment, don't you?" He said in an amused voice. "Have you already forgotten what I said? What if I was to cast the punishment on your fellow captured soldiers for your insolence, rather then yourself?"

Cearul felt anger flow in his blood. If that cat even laid a paw _near_ his friends he'd kill him Even if it took him the rest of his life. Though the squirrel never was big on revenge, the thought of his friend suffering could turn him into a raging monster.

Kirndoul saw the thoughts flash across the squirrel's mind as he studied the prisoner's face. Clearing his throat he sipped his wine and then spoke calmly, in his superior voice.

"Now, will you listen to what I have to say without...interruptions and scoffing?"

The squirrel scowled. It was checkmate. He could do nothing, as the wildcat had the upper paw. If he even tried anything, his friends would pay dearly for his defiance, as the cat had insinuated.

"Yes." He forced out through gritted teeth, making it known that he hated the cat.

The wildcat nodded in discreet triumph and pushed a plate of assorted food towards the captive.

"Good. Eat and listen quietly."

Though Cearul was angry that the cat threatened him, he didn't argue about eating a little something. If he was going to get out of here he needed to get some strength, and besides if he refused, his friends would be tortured. Sighing, he warily took an apple from the plate and chewed reluctantly on it. Yes, he was hungry, _starving_, but he didn't want to give this monster the joy of him being at his mercy.

"Now." Kirndoul began, folding his paws to his chin and resting his elbows on the table. "I have heard from your friends in my dungeons that you are a fine fighter. Is that true?"

"Did you torture them like you did me to find that out?" Cearul did his best not to spit his response out, clearly forgetting the warning he'd just received. But he could hardly help the bitterness he felt towards the cat.

Krindoul rolled his eyes and then glared at the squirrel.

"Maybe I did, or maybe I will. That would depend upon your cooperation. Now, are you a good fighter?"

Not wishing harm to come to his friends, the squirrel answered with a shrug.

"I'm good enough."

The wildcat nodded.

"My soldiers say that the only reason you were able to be captured was through taking your friend captive."

Cearul shrugged and was about to say how such an act was a dishonorable one on his captors part, but thought against it. He didn't want another spell in the torture chamber, for him or his friends. Cooperation seemed to be his only choice. So he quietly munched on his apple as the cat continued.

"Now, I know you are well aware of the fact that I could just execute you at my liege, but I have other plans. You see, there has been recent construction on my fortress..."

_By slaves, no doubt... _The squirrel thought darkly.

"...that has just been completed. It's an arena. Do you know what I intend to use that arena for, Cearul?"

The squirrel could guess, but chose not to.

"Having a permanent circus?" He said sarcastically.

Kirndoul let out a laugh then shook his head.

"No squirrel, gladiatorial fights."

It was then that it stuck Cearul, hard, across the face. He stared down at his paws in shock and then looked up. He'd heard of gladiators before...but _becoming_ one? He just couldn't wrap his head around that.

"You want me to..." His voice trailed off, somewhat in fear and somewhat in pure hatred.

The wildcat smiled an eerie, dark smile.

"Yes, Cearul, and I want you to represent me in the opening fight."

The squirrel responded instantly and without hesitation.

"No. I don't kill for pleasure."

The smile on Kirndoul's face widened sadistically.

"Oh I think you will." The cat leaned forward obviously relishing the pained expression on Cearul's face. "You see, if you don't, I'll torture you to death. But the pain will be nothing like that which you have already suffered. It will be ten times worse."

The squirrel bit his lip at the thought of such agony, but stubbornly shook his head.

"Do what you want...I won't fight in your arena."

"You're a brave little creature, Cearul." The cat Lord hissed, coating his ever growing admiration. "_You_ might be able to face such torment, but what about your friends? Do you think that they could?"

Cearul growled and had to suppress himself from launching at the wildcat.

"You wouldn't..."

"I would and shall as I have said before!" Kirndoul smirked. "You are under my mercy and command, squirrel. You do as I say or you and your friends get hurt, understand?"

Cearul snarled and shook in sheer rage. The wildcat was mocking him! And he couldn't do a thing about it!

The cat leaned forward, articulating each word. "Do you understand? Or do I have to make Vurshal pay your friends a visit? Eh?"

"How do I know they're not dead yet?" The squirrel demanded. "How do I know that they haven't been tortured to death already?"

Kirndoul sat back and sighed.

"You think I'm playing you false?" He said in a rather annoyed voice. "Fine. Captain Ferros!"

The same orange wildcat that had held Cearul earlier entered the door and bowed.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Take Cearul here back to his cell." Kirndoul grunted. "Along the way, pay a visit to his friends' cell. He wants proof they're alive." The cat turned towards his captive, his eyes glinting victory. "I'll meet with you later."

* * *

Serian sat dozing in the corner of his cell. Quad was already asleep, curled by the opposite wall. He felt a twang of pity as he watched his friend sleep. He had always been a weak creature, even in mouse standards. He recalled how the little mouse had fought so valiantly when they were ambushed, yet he was too weak to even have a chance. The wildcats had scooped him up and used him as a hostage to get Cearul and himself to surrender. And then the squirrel had been tortured mercilessly, leaving Quad filled with guilt as the screams echoed the halls.

Heaving a sigh, the squirrel hoped that his squirrel friend was still alive. After that last painful scream weeks ago, they had no way of knowing. Sure there were other screams, but none of them sounded like the squirrel's voice. He kept telling himself that Cearul was a strong beast, at least, stronger then most. He was ok. Maybe he had escaped and was finding a way to free them! Maybe he...

Suddenly the door opened and Serian's head snapped up, catching the glint of red fur in the darkness of the dungeon light.

"Cearul!" He shouted, jumping up and enclosing his squirrel friend in a warm, worried hug, despite the chains he wore.

Cearul returned the embrace with grateful and happy tears on his cheeks. They were still alive! Kirndoul hadn't killed them!

"Serian..."He sobbed lightly under his breath. "Serian, I thought they had killed you."

The squirrel stepped back and smiled.

"Nope, we've just been rotting here..." He looked his friend up and down and then his face suddenly paled. "What's this? Your chest and arms Cearul? What did they do to you?"

Cearul frowned and then turned towards Quad, who was now sitting up in confusion after being awakened by the sound of voices.

"Don't worry about it. Just be glad I'm alive." The squirrel smiled as the mouse scrambled to his paws and embraced him.

"Crows Cear, we thought they killed ya!"

"Nearly did, mate" Cearul replied as the mouse stepped away. "Are you both ok..they haven't.._hurt_ you have they?"

Quad smiled. Only _he_ could reply with a smile to a question like that.

"Naw, just pushed us around a bit...but you...you're a sight for sore eyes! What did they do?"

"Had fun." The squirrel said grimly.

Serian let a curse escape his lips, while Quad spat fire.

"If I ever get out of here I'll hunt the damned beast that did that to you do and kill him, slow like!"

Cearul was about to say something when a paw gripped his shoulder firmly. He looked up to see the orange fur of a wildcat. Surely he didn't have to go _now_?

"Come squirrel." Ferros hissed quietly, pulling Cearul back. "Your time is up."

Quad bared his teeth at the wildcat in anger. Had he not been chained to the wall, he would have attacked the larger creature fearlessly, regardless to size.

"You treat him right or I'll make it my life mission to hunt you down!"

Ferros sneered as he pulled Cearul from the cell and slammed the door, causing Quad to fall back on his rump and glare up through the grating in the door.

"Don't aggravate me mouse." The Captain warned. "Somebeast could get hurt."

With that Cearul was pushed roughly through halls and into the deepest part dungeon. His cell was opened and he was flung unceremoniously back into it, hitting his head on the wall. The wildcat picked him up and pressed him against the wall by the neck as he reach for the chains. The squirrel winced as tight manacles were re-cuffed onto his wrists, followed by the door being slamming, shut and locked.

* * *

**_*YAWN*...no comment...just...review...so tired...*snore*_**


	4. The Rose Warrior

**The Rose Warrior**

* * *

Cearul tossed his weapons to the vermin guard and walked over to the fountain used for cleaning armor after arena fights. Dipping his blood-stained paws into the water he watched as the red liquid was washed from his fur. Another innocent victim had died by his blade, another face to haunt him in his dreams. He could still hear the vermin from the stands shouting the arena name he had been given.

"Rose Warrior! Rose Warrior! Rose Warrior!"

The squirrel grit his teeth and shut the sounds from his mind. Every time he heard the term 'rose' his chest scar throbbed. It was like reliving the horrifying pain of the burning iron as it made contact with his skin.

"Eh! Rose Warrior!"

Cearul ground his teeth as he spun around to meet the speaker. It was Raz, a young, brown mouse slave. He was leaning against the bars of the slave pen and grinning.

"Ya coming in, or are ya too bold for the rest of us?" He asked, spreading his paws.

"I'm coming, Raz." The squirrel grumbled as he made for the pen entrance. The vermin guard on duty unlocked the door and pushed him in carelessly.

Cearul was about to sneer an insult at the guard when Raz came waltzing up in his torn clothing.

"So ya beat poor Tend did ya?" He said with a frown. "I'll miss that old hedgehog."

"So will I." Cearul groaned and sat down by the bars of the pen. He let out a sigh and leaned against the bars. "I just wish I could loose."

Raz looked at the squirrel curiously, with a slight smirk over his lips.

"You always were suicidal."

Cearul grinned sadly as his companion sat down beside him.

"That's something Quad would say." The squirrel closed his eyes. "I hope he's okay."

The brown mouse smiled and clapped the down-hearted gladiator on the back. From the first moment Cearul had laid eyes on the slave, he'd liked him. Though young, the mouse was strong and skilled with a blade. He claimed that his father had taught him, being a pirate-slayer of some sort. How and when he was captured, the mouse never mentioned, and Cearul didn't think he would. He guessed that he'd been the only survivor of whatever happened, for the mouse seemed downcast when he mentioned anything of his father. That is, more downcast then other slaves, stolen from their homes and lives.

"I'm sure he is, Rosy." The mouse said in a cheery voice. "From what you tell me, that mouse could live through a volcano blast, while being at the peak of the mountain and give a whopper of a tale!

Cearul sighed.

"Aye, he's tough in heart, but not in body."

"Well, that's what counts isn't it?" Raz grinned.

The squirrel shrugged.

"I don't know anymore, Raz." He frowned. "It seems as though the world was made to be one way, but is never that way. Everything's gotta be hard, twisted and heart-rending." He looked at the mouse sincerely. "How do you survive in that type of world?"

Raz sighed and looked at Cearul sternly.

"My father always used to say that life's what you make of it." The mouse smiled slightly. "I've had a lot of bad moments in my life, Rosy, but I've never looked at it in the negative. I think of what good will come out of it, if any. It makes one stronger in soul, squirrel, and that's what matters. You could loose everything dear to you, but if you're strong and willing to push forward, it makes everything worth it. It may not seem that way to you at the time, or ever for that matter, but it could be affecting those about you. I've looked up to beasts who've suffered more then anyone could think, yet they fought on."

Raz cast a small, teary look at the squirrel, before dropping his head.

"I hate killing, Rosy." He said in a low tone. "I hate it more then anything. But it's not like I've got a choice. Kirndoul's a smart one. If we don't fight, he doesn't injure us personally, he harms those about us. Believe me, I wouldn't be fighting if it meant my own life. I kill so that others may live...maybe not long, but they live a bit longer. It kills me to go against everything I am, but it's for those about me that I do it." He grinned gingerly. "The good I hope for is that one day, those whose lives I preserve may be free again. Its worth it isn't it, Rosy? Horrible, but worth it."

Cearul frowned and put a comforting paw about the mouse's shoulders.

"Aye. It's worth it, mate." He looked up through the pen grating at the giant castle they were captive to. His eyes fell upon one window, and he drew his lips up into a snarl.

Kirndoul was watching him.

"I'll make it worth it." He growled. "I swear it on my life-blood."

* * *

Kirndoul drew away from his window with a smirk. He enjoyed watching his fighters hope and comfort each other, only end each other's lives in the future. It was terrible-and he loved it.

"My lord."

The grey wildcat twisted his head to look at the speaker. He frowned slightly.

"Nothing you say will change my mind, Captain."

The orange cat hissed under his breath before responding.

"But my lord, is it wise to entrust this on the squirrel? Our entire campaign will rely-"

"Not our _entire_ campaign, Captain!" Kirdoul said lowly. "It will merely boost our chances of winning." The wildcat purred and turned back to the window to watch Cearul and Raz walk off as the guards hauled them back to their separate cells.

"Besides," He added. "-the tree-jumper hardly has a choice in the matter."

* * *

Cearul opened his eyes at the sound of somebeast banging on his cell. He sat up wearily and looked over to see the guard opening the door.

"Lord Kirdoul wants te see yer."

"What for?" The squirrel inquired with a snap, earning a hard stare.

"Wot shudn't madder te ya. Ya've been called, ya come!"

Cearul sneered in response as two more guards came in and bound him. As much as he would have liked to, he didn't struggle. He didn't know what the wildcats would do to his friends if he did.

Soon he found himself in the striped Lord's presence once again. Again, his paws were freed and again he wished to spit in the wildcat's face. He had to keep himself from growling hatefully when the wildcat asked (or ordered) him to take a seat. Grimly, he noticed the fine clothing the lord wore and his thoughts flew back to the ragged pieces of cloth Raz and the other slaves were dressed in. He quickly added that to the list of reasons why he should try to kill the cat in the future...a very inviting idea. He sat in quiet anger, waiting for the lord to speak.

"You've been doing well in the arena, Cearul. Just as I thought you would."

"That's not my opinion." The squirrel said bluntly. He couldn't help but think of the innocent beasts that he'd been forced to kill.

Kirndoul smiled and poured himself a glass of wine.

"Don't worry, your friends are well. And they will remain so as long as you do as you're told."

Cearul grunted.

"Easy for you to say, you've got no morals."

The wildcat only grinned in reply.

"And you do, then?"

"Aye, I do." The squirrel spat. "And I find killing innocent beasts who can hardly fight disgusting."

"Yet you do it..." The wildcat hummed.

Cearul growled and bared his teeth in anger.

"I don't have a choice."

Kirndoul smirked, allowing his teeth to glint off the sunlight pouring in through the window.

"There is always a choice, squirrel." The cat tuned. "You had the choice on whether to fight and keep your friends alive, or die along with your friends painfully. I merely took and gave you the options. _You_ did the choosing."

Cearul struggled to maintain his temper and flashed his eyes furiously away from the cat.

"What do you want?" He demanded. "Why have I been summoned?"

The wildcat purred softly and sipped at his wine cup.

"I wish to give you a chance at freedom." He hissed under his breath. "It will be a thing you need to earn."

"I have done enough under you to earn my freedom fifty times over, cat." Cearul scowled. "I'm not your toy. You can't make me earn anything."

Kirndoul was quiet awhile before glared down at his captive.

"The mouse you call 'Quad' is to fight in the arena tomorrow against my very own captain." He said carefully. "He will, no doubt, fail."

That did it. Cearul flew off his chair spurting fire and brimstone.

"Monster! He has no chance! You can't do that! That's bloody murder!"

The wildcat smiled, very amused by the outburst.

"Have you no faith in your friend's skill?"

Cearul's neckfur rose in fury. He displayed his teeth and clenched his paws. The cat was tormenting him for fun, and it was obviously working.

"Quad was stupid to join the army. It was to avenge his family. He can't fight."

"I see." Kirndoul said, putting his chin in his paw. "Well, it shall be interesting to see him try to run from my captain in the arena."

"He's no coward, cat!" The angered squirrel shouted. "He'll fight and die if he must. Chance or no chance!"

The wildcat smiled.

"You _really_ think me a beast of little or no moral, don't you?"

Cearul grit his teeth.

"It's hard not to after you had me tortured."

Kirndoul rolled his eyes and leaned on his elbows. He eyed the squirrel before him with interest, as a eagle scans it's victim from his perch before descending for the kill. His eyes fell upon the scar, burned forever into the squirrel's chest. The figure of the rose, standing out against the red fur almost made the smaller beast seem stronger. He admired Cearul's courage, having remained silent even under torture and his constant insults actually gained him respect.

"I want to offer you a chance at freedom." The lord said simply.

"Does this 'chance' involve the freedom of my companions?" The squirrel steamed quietly.

The wildcat grinned.

"It could." He said, settling back in his seat. "It depends on how well you work. But if you don't...well...lets just say that your friends won't be in the best of positions, eh?"

Cearul growled beneath his breath and sent his gaze to the ground as he slumped back into his chair, despairing ever so slightly.

"What do you want me to do?" The squirrel sighed, stowing his hate.

The wildcat grinned and tapped his cup.

"I want a curtain sword...and I'm sending you to get it."

"You're using me as a messenger beast?" Cearul snorted, not favoring the idea. "Couldn't you just send one of your _minions_ to do that for you? After all, I've never found journeys delightful."

Kirndoul laughed and eyed the unhappy squirrel with amusement.

"I _could_ send one of them." He stated with a smirk. "But the chance that they'd be allowed in the Abbey is a one out of a hundred. They'd let you in with no problem."

Cearul raised a uneasy eyebrow.

"And why is that?" He asked curiously. "And why would _an abbey_ have a sword? They're usually peaceful and pacified creatures."

The wildcat sighed and leaned back in his seat, looking over his captive. He noted how the squirrel twitched as his eyes fell on the rose, scarred in Cearul's skin.

"Have you not heard of Redwall?"

Cearul cocked his head and bit his lip in thought. He scanned over the names of all the abbeys he knew and was surprised at the size of how small the list was. Being born into a war-bred family hardly gave the squirrel a chance to look towards peace and it's kind. From a young age he had been used to the smell of blood and the weeping of mothers and widows after a battle. It had been his everyday life. He believed it hard to be able to live in complete peace without some foe to fight.

Realizing that the cat was still awaiting an answer the squirrel shrugged.

"I might have, but I don't recall it."

Kirndoul frowned a bit but continued speaking.

"I'm surprised that a squirrel such as yourself would not know the legendary Redwall." He stated and then sighed. "This may take longer then I would have liked."

"It's your time you choose to waste, cat." Cearul hissed quietly. "I unfortunately find your babbling more interesting then staring at for stone wall of a prison cell for hours on end."

The grey wildcat sent the squirrel a cold glare, making the prisoner's heart skip a beat.

"I would now prefer if you kept your mouth shut and locked as I speak." The lord said, his voice dripping warning. "If you are not silent, then I shall have you gagged. I have little time to run on...Also, I do not_ babble_."

Cearul thought it best if he didn't try to meet the stronger creature's gaze and stared at the table intently. He knew he should just keep quiet and obedient from then on. Even wildcat lords have their limits in patience, and the lining on Kirndoul's was wearing thin.

"Now." The Lord said, sitting in a dominate posture. "Redwall is a large, redstone abbey south of here. The sword I want lies in this particular abbey because they were founded by a warrior who wished to lay down his battling and become peaceful, thus founding an abbey. However, to protect and keep the abbey he left behind at death safe from..._vermin, _the warrior's spirit is said to guard the place and choose 'abbey warriors' to take his place in dreams. They wield his blade and take great care of the sword. Many have tried to take the abbey, only to fail. The beasts within may be sworn to be peaceful, but if the abbey is attacked, they will fight to the death to save it."

"And?" Cearul asked as the cat paused.

"And-" The lord stated simply. "I want the sword."

"And your personal yearning for a sword has to do with me..._how_?"

Kirndoul smiled at the squirrel and drummed his paws against the table.

"This is where you come in, Cearul." He said carefully. "I cannot simply waltz in and steal the blade unnoticed, as I am considered to be vermin. You however, would be welcomed without a second thought. I am sending you to get into the abbey and take the sword. As a squirrel, they'd trust you and hardly expect you to try anything."

Cearul looked blankly at the wildcat and blinked. He didn't want to do this. He didn't want to steal something that other beasts treasured and cared for. But then again, it was just a sword and he wasn't about to let a mere piece of metal outrank the lives of his friends. Kirndoul would surely kill them if he refused.

"Fine." He said, looking gloomily at the ground. "What then?"

"Then?" The wildcat grinned. "Then you get me that sword and bring it back here within seven days."

"Seven?" Cearul blurted. "How do you expect me to get there and back in seven days? It'll take at least two weeks, if not more!"

Lord Kirndoul rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Fine, I'll give you twelve."

"Twelve! But tha-"

"Look squirrel." The wildcat sneered. "You have twelve days of freedom, twelve days to get me that sword, and twelve days that I can ensure you the lives of your friends. No more, no less. Do as I say, and I'll spare your mouse friend from the arena tomorrow."

Cearul grit his teeth and glared at the cat.

"Fine. But what if they don't believe me?"

Kirndoul gave the squirrel a evil smile and sipped at his wine.

"That won't be a problem." He said with an unconcerned voice. "Just feed them the whole 'run away slave' story or something, and they'll grovel at your paws."

"It's hardly a story." The squirrel mumbled to himself, earning a look from his captor.

"See Cearul!" The wildcat smirked. "You already have the mood down! You'll be fine."

The squirrel cursed silently and met the cat's eyes hatefully.

"Touch my friends while I'm gone, and I'll kill you with the very sword you long for."

The Lord merely laughed and called for the guard to come a take his captive away.

* * *

Cearul was now shrouded in a new blue tunic and belt, opposed to his ragged kilt he had been captured in weeks previous. His paws were no longer bound, but still bore scars from past bonds that had held him. His red fur was clean once again and shown in the morning sun as he was pushed through the courtyard towards the gate. Regardless of his refreshed look, the squirrel was weary and only his eyes showed it. He'd spent the entire night sitting against his cell wall, the threats that Kirndoul had thrown, running through his mind.

The wildcat wanted him to steal a sword, an ancient sword. At first, he had refused. But after listening to the Lord describe in detail what he would do to the squirrel's friends if he refused or failed, the captive quickly complied. After that he had had any wounds that were still open, cared for and then sent off to bathe. When he was clean, he had been given new clothes and ordered to put them on. Of course, he didn't mind being rid of his kilt, he had never wanted to where the uniform anyway and the new tunic covered his scars. When he was fresh and cleansed, he was tossed back into his cell and left there for the night.

The squirrel looked up at the sun, born anew with the day and sighed. He watched as Kirndoul approached him and his guards with a triumphant smile over his features.

"Good morning, Cearul." The wildcat said cheerily. "About ready to go?"

Cearul couldn't help but throw him a look.

"I want to see my friends before I leave." The squirrel demanded, in the most respectful voice he could.

The wildcat smirked and rolled his eyes.

"I think it best that you don't."

"And why is that?" Cearul growled.

The Lord waved his paw to two weasel guards baring provisions for the captive.

"Because your concern for them will help you to complete your mission more speedily and efficiently."

The squirrel scowled.

"What if I come across a patrol of _my _army?" He asked as he strapped the pack he was given to his back and took a canteen from the guard's paws. "Am I supposed to tell them I've just been making daisy chains for the past few weeks?"

Kirndoul shrugged.

"You'll figure something out." He turned on his heel and started back inside. "The lives of your friends depend on it."

And with that, Cearul was pushed out the gate, where he landed on his face. The giant doors were promptly shut and bolted again as the squirrel stood up, brushing himself off. He took one look at the castle before him and then spit, turning sharply around and marching off into the morning.

* * *

_**Ok...here's another chapter...now to go to bed...**_

_**READ AND REVIEW!**_

_**-Ireland Ranger-**_


	5. Jedrek

**Jedrek**

* * *

Cearul trudged through the woods heading south, as he had been for the past day. The sun was now setting and he figured he had come a long way. However, he didn't stop. He couldn't take the chance. This mission he was going to get over and done with. Serian and Quad were depending on him, and he wouldn't let them down like so many had done to him. If it took no rest, starvation and endless trekking to guarantee their safety, then he didn't mind.

The squirrel glared at the setting sun and then reflected Kirndoul's instructions grimly. Then he snapped his teeth, willing the glowing orb to go back up into the sky and give him more time. This was his first full day out of the twelve he had been given, and already he felt as though he was loosing ground. He wouldn't give up. Deciding that tramping through the night would save him a lot of worry, he focused on his pawsteps.

_Left, right. Left, right. Left, right. Left, right. Left, right..._

"Damn cat's made me his bloody slave." He snorted angrily to himself, kicking a stone as his patience drained. "All this for a damn piece of metal! The stupid idiot must be insane, sending me off like this for..."

"I'd say ye're a grumpy one, ye are. A fiery spirit."

Cearul shot around and bared his teeth as he scanned his eyes over the trees. If that wildcat was having him tracked...

"Whose following me?" He spat, spinning about and looking for the speaker. "Show yourself!"

He caught a movement off to his right and he snapped his head towards the moving bush. An otter stepped out from behind it, grinning from ear to ear. He looked like a right, nice fellow. Dressed in a common travelers tunic, a large pack strapped to his back, the canteen hanging around his neck and the staff in his paw, clearly signed him as a roamer. Regardless of who he was, Cearul felt a need to vent his anger.

The otter bowed.

"Hi there friend I-"

"Don't bloody 'hi' me!" Cearul growled, cutting the otter off, his temper steaming. "What are you doing following me?"

The otter kept his smile and shrugged.

"I'm not followin' nobeast, we just crossed paths along our ways." He winked comically and leaned on his staff. "Fate."

"Like hell we did." The squirrel scoffed. "No sensible beast would live or travel within fifteen miles of a wildcat Lord's home. So you're either insane, or extremely stupid."

The otter seemed genuinely surprised at the mention of the wildcat. He twitched his whiskers in thought and cocked his head.

"I had no idea there were wildcat's around here...how do ye know?"

Cearul stomped up to the beast, eying him in fury. Too much fire had been pent-up inside him and now he was letting a little out.

"I know because I was _just there_, peabrain." He said, poking the otter hard in the chest.

The dark beast shrugged and put up his paws.

"Hey there, mate." He said in a lower tone. "No need to get angry. I was just asking."

"Well stop asking!" Cearul snapped as he turned around and began storming off again. He hoped he had been rid of the blasted otter, as he was in no mood for company. However, the creature came running after him, putting his arms up to stop the squirrel.

"Ye were _in _the wildcat's home?" He asked with wide eyes. "What in heaven's name were ye doin' there?"

"Picking daisies, otter!" The squirrel snarled sarcastically. "Look, just go away, will you? I've got important business south! None of which, is _yours_!"

"Ye're headin south?" The otter smiled. "So am I."

"So what." The squirrel said as he walked past the beast.

"So we should stick together!" The otter said from behind Cearul.

The squirrel let out a long sigh and turned back to the otter. The look of cheer on the beast's face was too much for the squirrel to bare, yet he knew reasoning would probably fail, since the fool had a brain similar to swamp-muck. Still, he tried to get the beast off in a peaceful fashion, as he had to save his strength for his journey.

"Look, I just want to be left alone..."

"Nobeast should be alone." The otter said with a grin.

"Well _I _prefer to be alone." Cearul barked. "So please..."

"And I prefer company, ye're stuck with me, mate!" The otter said, marching up to the front. "The name's Jedrek, by the way!"

* * *

_"Torture with a touch of sweetness..."_

Cearul jolted awake from his slumber, his paw on his chest. Panting, he tossed his gaze over to the otter who had introduced himself as 'Jedrek'. The beast was breathing smoothly in sleep. Letting out a sigh, the squirrel brushed beads of sweat from his brow and sat up. His body was shaking again, just like it did whenever he dreamed of the rose, flourishing in burning fire. He rubbed his arms and leaned against the tree he slept under. His scars were burning again, heating his body like live fire.

Grabbing his canteen, he rolled up his sleeves and gently poured the cool substance over his wounds, desperate to end the pain. Many times in his cell, his nerves suffered the memory of searing pain, making him nearly beg for water to cool his wounds. Pride had held him back...he was firm on pride. He also applied the refreshing liquid to his shoulders, over the scars beneath his tunic. The freezing temperature of the water seemed to bring the squirrel back to reality. He capped the canteen and replaced it in his sack, glancing over at the otter. The beast was awake.

Cearul growled and pulled down his sleeves. His stare was unrelenting and piercing as his met the otter's eyes

"First you force yourself into my company and now you spy on me."

Jedrek sat up and sighed. He hadn't been able to sleep, but that didn't make him a spy or sneaky beast.

"I wasn't spyin on ye."

"Really?" The squirrel snorted, glaring at his paws. "Then what were you just doing?"

The otter shrugged, knowing already that the squirrel was hard to reckon with.

"I woke at the wrong time." He said in an apologetic tone.

Cearul snarled, showing his white fangs. For a squirrel...he certainly had a temper...

"I suppose you'll demand to know where I got these scars exactly?"

"No." Jedrek said simply. "That's yer business, and besides...I already know."

"Oh you do?" The squirrel kept his scowl and raised an eyebrow. "Where then?"

"The wildcat's fortress that ye visited." The otter said, mentally kicking himself for not realizing sooner. No woodlander would ever enter a vermin's fortress on his own free will...that was...at least if they valued their lives.

"Bravo, riverdog! You've managed to dip your paw further into my damned life." Cearul stated sarcastically.

Jedrek gave the squirrel a sad look then turned away.

"I'm sorry." He sighed. "I-it must have been horrible-"

"Don't give me your pathetic pity, otter." Cearul hissed. "You have no idea what I've gone through. You've just thrown yourself into my life and my business without a thought of what I think. So just keep your trap shut and leave me be."

The squirrel laid back down and rolled over so his back was to Jedrek. He had felt tears in his eyes and he hadn't wanted the otter to see him weak. He quickly brushed the wetness from his eyes and laid, his soul mutely torn by what he'd seen and done. He placed a paw on his chest and tried to return to sleep.

But his rest didn't come easy.

For each time he closed his eyes he saw Vurshal, placing the hot iron on his exposed chest and laughing. He saw flashes of the beasts who he'd been forced to kill in Kirndoul's arena. Glimpse of the threats the wildcat had given him played in his mind. He could see Serian and Quad screaming in pain...then a rose...a rose on fire, dripping blood. Then he would jerk awake, panting, his wounds throbbing. Looking to the sky he cursed the vermin who had done this to him...he would make them pay. Every last one.

* * *

Cearul jerked awake, his ears instantly catching the sound of somebeast whistling. He sat up slowly and looked around, lightly surprised not to see the walls of his cell surrounding him. Jedrek was stirring something in a tin pot over a small fire. The squirrel sniffed the air and caught the delightful scent of plum gravy, a smell he'd nearly forgotten.

"G'mornin to yer, squirrel!" The dark otter said as he glanced up to see Cearul awake. "Ye kept tossin' and turnin' in yore sleep...so it's a little late since I left ye t'sleep. Why don't ye come over here and take a bowl o'this, eh? It's sure to cheer one before a hard tramp."

Cearul looked at the otter and then at the steaming pot, as if unsure whether to take the offer. His head was still hazy with drowsiness. Still, he wasn't sure he could trust the otter...

"C'mon!" Jedrek smiled, seeing the squirrel's hesitance. "Ye look like ye could use a bit o'fattening."

Cearul looked down at himself. It was true. He was painfully thin from his captivity. He hadn't really noticed because he was too focused on getting to Redwall to care.

Carefully, the squirrel moved forward. He wasn't sure why he was wary of the friendly otter, but something didn't set right. Just yesterday he'd been sitting in his cell, wondering if he'd ever see the sun again, and now he was free...well, partly. He was still under Kirndoul's paw really. Now he was being offered food again while Quad and Serian were starving...

Suddenly the squirrel drew back, drawing his knees to his chest and sent his eyes glaring into the trees.

"No thanks." He couldn't eat while his friends were prisoners.

Jedrek frowned and poured some of the gravy into the bowl anyway. Moving to the squirrel's side, he persisted. From the looks of the squirrel, he wouldn't last much longer without something decent to eat.

"Look, I know yer probably upset about something...but that don't me ye gotta starve yerself over it." He forced the bowl into the squirrel's paws and the beast snapped his head towards the otter, glaring. "Ye've gotta eat. Yer only killin' yerself by refusing."

"When I want your advice, I'll ask for it." Cearul snapped angrily, but did not force the bowl back into the otter's paws.

* * *

They'd been traveling together for the past three days. With each step the squirrel took, he thought of his captive friends and the time it was taking him to get to his destination. He rarely spoke as he moodily reflected on all the horrid things he'd seen the wildcats do while he was a captive. He could only guess what Lord Kirndoul had planned for Serian and Quad if he failed. They'd die horribly. All because of him.

Jedrek walked by the squirrel, light of heart and cheery. He sang loud and happy tunes, regardless of his companion's mood. He tried once or twice to even get Cearul to join him, however the squirrel only glared and continued tramping down the path. The otter didn't mind in the least. It only gave him more determination to lighten his companion's thoughts, whatever they were.

For the past three days, Cearul had refused to stop or break, however Jedrek somehow forced him to one way or another. The otter had let him march long into the night, before saying that sleep would give them more energy for the next day's trek. Cearul ate what Jedrek forced into his paws and curled up, away from the otter for sleep. More than once he had waken during the night, screaming lightly or sweating and panting. Jedrek had respectfully pretended not to have been awakened on those incidents. Still, he felt guilty when he heard the squirrel suddenly start weeping to himself. He realized that Cearul's anger and temper were really just there to cover up his true emotions. He didn't mind the tongue lashing Cearul always gave him once he understood that.

Though the squirrel was mostly silent and dull (unless furious for some reason or another), the otter had been able to pull a little bit of conversation from the squirrel. He found that they were both heading for the same place, Redwall. Cearul had painfully lied and said that he was going there to find peace of mind in a blunt tone. Jedrek was going to see his brother, an otter in Redwall's allied Otter Tribe. The squirrel said nothing more of his past, though and the otter knew it was more then rude to ask.

On the morning of the fourth day, Jedrek noticed that Cearul was acting more nervous than he'd ever seen. By the time the otter had woke, the squirrel was already packed and ready to go. He had actually been waiting for the otter to wake, explaining to Jedrek that he 'allowed' his company. The words had made the otter actually smile inwardly. He jumped up, packed and munched on some dried fruit as the walked. He had, rather sternly, asked Cearul if he'd eaten and when the squirrel replied that he had, 'because there was no point in not eating', the otter again hid a grin. Obviously, his pestering had finally made some sense to the squirrel...or he didn't wish to be bothered. No matter, as long as he wasn't starving himself.

By the end of the day the pair were within Redwall's home forest. It was just as they were a mile or two from the abbey that they heard screaming. Cearul's heart involuntarily skipped a beat and he was instantly running towards the sound, Jedrek following close behind.

* * *

**_All who believe that Cearul needs anger management say 'AYE'! (he's very fired up for a squirrel)...then again I don't really blame him :D Sorry for my mistakes!_**

**_Review!_**

**_-Ireland Ranger-_**


	6. Welcome to Redwall

**Welcome to Redwall**

* * *

Cearul hurriedly pushed his way through the brush to find himself standing by a stream. He looked about for a sign of any creature when, across the water, he spotted a yelping and crying mousemaid. She wore a long green habit and, from what the squirrel could see, she was alone. When the maid looked up and saw him, she pleadingly pointed to the water.

"Please!" Her voice was laced in panic. "My brother is in trouble! You have to help him! He can't swim!"

Cearul looked to the water and caught site of a small mouse, clinging to a stone in the center of the stream for dear life. As he was thinking of a way to solve the problem, a flash of brown flew by him followed by a large splash. It was Jedrek. The squirrel watched as the otter made his way swiftly through the water to the mouse's side.

_Well, I suppose otters can be useful after all..._The squirrel thought to himself. _So much for me helping._

He watched as the otter reached and spoke calmly to the little beast, telling him to hang onto his back. The mouse shrieked in fear and refused. Jedrek began to sooth the cub and explain to the young one that otters were water beasts and that he'd be safe with him. It took some time before the young one agreed and had the courage to leave his rock.

Cearul watched as the otter kindly held the small mouse's paw to help him release the rock. As he was climbing on Jedrek's back, the squirrel thought he saw something beneath the water surface. He stared, but after seeing no movement, he looked back to the two beasts in the stream. It was then that the mousemaid screamed again, her voice piercing the squirrel's eardrums so that he covered his ears and looked over at her with an annoyed expression.

She pointed into the water, cry at the top of her voice.

"Pike! It's a pike! He'll eat my brother!" With that she broke down sobbing.

Cearul snapped his attention back to the water. There was indeed a pike, two in fact. Both large, swimming right towards the otter and mouse. Jedrek was just about back to land, but the pike were fast. They'd reach them before they were safe. Cursing beneath his breath the squirrel looked instinctively about for a weapon. Unfortunately, the only thing he found was a small, but sharp stick. Plucking it from the ground he ran forward and plunged into the stream, forgetting completely that squirrel's weren't made for water.

He swam between the pike and Jedrek, awaiting the offending fish with his stick, hefted like a small knife in the air. It was only a few seconds later when he caught sight of the green, underwater bodies coming straight for him. Readying his himself for the creature, he waited for the perfect time to strike.

Behind him the otter and mouse cub were climbing back to dry ground when Jedrek noticed what the squirrel had done. He spun about, catching sight of the squirrel with a stick raised in his paw and calmly waiting for the two large pike.

"Cearul!" Jedrek called from the shore beside the mousemaid. "Get out now!"

The squirrel ignored the otter, focusing on the green bodies coming steadily closer. He lifted the stick, counting under his breath. The first fish opened its mouth, revealing its sharp teeth. Just a little closer...perfect.

He swung with all the force he could muster, lodging the stick in the pike's throat though its open mouth. Cearul latched onto the fish's flailing body and gave the stick a nasty twist. The pike splashed about, writhing in his arms so that the squirrel fell beneath the water. Still, he refused to let go until the fish's attempts to break free became futile and weary.

Knowing the fish would die eventually then, Cearul released the pike and made for the surface. Just as he broke into the air, he felt something latch onto his shoulder, making him growl in pain as its teeth sunk into his flesh. It was the second pike. His body shivering in pain, the squirrel forgot himself. He gripped each of the strong jaws and pulled, roaring. The fish loosened and Cearul ripped it from his shoulder, tossing it from him.

Blood leaked freely from his torn shoulder, but he knew the pike wasn't dead yet. He had just enough time to reach into the water and grab two stones before the fish rammed into his side, knocking his breath away. The squirrel swung about, shoving one of the rocks down the pike's open mouth and into his throat. The fish latched its teeth into his arm so that the squirrel couldn't withdraw his paw. Cearul grit his teeth at the pain and gripped the other stone firmly in his left paw. He then began pounding on the pike's head until long after the creature stopped struggling and blood clouded the water.

After a few moments and being sure it was dead, Cearul dropped the rock and made his way to the shore, the fish still on his arm. He was met in the shallows by a worried Jedrek who quickly parted the pike's jaws and let the fish float off. Blood ran down the squirrel's arm, dripping into the water. Jedrek was about to suggest that he wrap it up when the squirrel sent him a tired, cold look.

"Lets get out before more come thinking I'm dinner." Cearul said gruffly, walking past the otter.

Jedrek shrugged, shutting his mouth and then followed.

Cearul sat down by the packs he had dropped and opened them, ignoring the two mice sitting by. He found some medical dressing and rolled up his sleeve, revealing a few scars from his torture. The flesh was torn and ripped and Cearul quickly began wrapping his wounds with it. The white bandages were quickly stained with the squirrels blood. Jedrek watched quietly to see if the wounds were serious. Once he was sure that Cearul could care for himself, he turned to the mouse he'd saved.

"Mind tellin' me just what ye were doin' out there sonny?" He asked the smaller of the two.

"Catching pwetty stones, mister otter sir." The shivering mouse said, pulling the cloak Jedrek had given him closer. "Mama had a widdle brother the oder day."

"We thank you for your help, mister otter." The mousemaid said. "I'm Mintflower and this is Dinkle. Our new little brother's name is Pebble, so Dinkle and I wanted to get him some pretty pebbles from the stream. We wanted it to be a surprise. Dinkle found a really colorful stone, but he fell in getting it."

"Where are your parents?" Cearul suddenly asked. "You shouldn't be out here alone."

"Back at Redwall." Mintflower said."We wanted to surprise them too, so we left without them."

The squirrel mumbled something under his breath as Jedrek looked at the mice with interest.

"Could ye take us t'Redwall?" He asked in a friendly voice. "I mean, do ye know the way back?"

"Yes mister otter." Dinkle said, followed by a sneeze.

The otter laughed, rustling the small mouse's headfur.

"My name's Jedrek, not 'mister otter'."

"Yes, we can take you." Mintflower said, standing up. "Then you can meet our little brother and Brother Rush can take care of your hurt friend."

"I don't need any help." Cearul protested quickly, standing and throwing his cloak over his wrapped wounds.

There was a short silence before Jedrek picked Dinkle up in his paws and winked at the mousemaid.

"I'm sure Cearul can care for himself, but thanks for t'offer." He hefted his pack onto his shoulder, then looked to Mintflower. "Okay. I think we're ready t'go. Lead t'way milady!"

* * *

The walk wasn't a long one. Jedrek joked and talked with the two little mice, while Cearul walked beside them in silence. His wrapped wounds pounded, but he ignored them and focused on his steps. Every pawstep took him closer to his objective, closer to completing his task. He just wanted it over with. If he could get the sword that very night he would try. Nothing was more important than Serian and Quad's lives.

It was practically dark when they arrived at the most interesting structure the squirrel had seen. It may have been an abbey, but it looked like a small fortress. Built of red sandstone, it stood in a large...very large clearing with a bell tower reaching to the sky. Each stone looked as though it had been carefully and reverently carved out. Even though it looked well cared for, he could tell that the building was old. Probably around a few thousand seasons old.

Through the gloom in his mind, Cearul was impressed. At least, for a moment. Then he got even more depressed as he realized that this was the home of the creatures he was being forced to steal from.

As they approached the gates a squirrel appeared over the wall.

"Mintflower, Dinkle! Your Father has been scouring the abbey for you!" He shouted down as he saw the group. "And who are these two?"

Jedrek bowed slightly, calling up.

"I am Jedrek. I've come t'visit a brother o'mine who resides here." He waved a paw at the squirrel beside him. "This is Cearul, my traveling partner."

"And I am called Quiston. Wait a moment, I'll have the gates opened." And with that, he disappeared from sight.

After a moment or two, the gates were opened and the brown squirrel came out to greet them. He was a young beast, but in no way a child. He wore a simple brown tunic, with a belt around his waist and a green cloak over his shoulders. Cearul noticed a lack of...something...in the squirrels motions. Something was not present that he was used to in most beasts he knew. Even as the squirrel continued he couldn't place his claw on it.

"Welcome to Redwall." Quiston said, shaking Jedrek's paw, then Cearul's. "I'm sorry for not being able to open our gates so easily. But we've heard rumors from travelers that tensions between the vermin and woodlanders are straining up north. The Abbess has asked us to be careful." He gestured to the gates. "Please, you are welcome. We only ask that you leave your weapons in the gatehouse or in your rooms. That is...if you have weapons."

Jedrek reached into his belt and produced a small knife. He handed the hilt to Quiston.

"This is all I've got. Learned t'be careful in me travels. Ye can keep it in t'gatehouse. I doubt I'll need it here."

The squirrel nodded and turned to Cearul.

"And you?"

"I have no weapons." The squirrel said in a low tone. He thoroughly wished he had though. Growing up surrounded by blades and shields made him feel void without a sword strapped by his side.

"That is an odd thing for any traveler." The Redwaller commented. "Vermin attacks are usually constant around this time."

Cearul shrugged. What was he supposed to say? The wildcats had provided him with no weapons upon his departure. he smirked inwardly. Maybe they were scared he'd come back and kill them...which che had every intention of doing eventually. Still, he didn't want to lie just yet.

"I came from a situation that left me weaponless."

Quiston nodded in understanding and waved them towards the gates, escorting them inside.

Even in the darkness of early night, Cearul was astounded by Redwall. The sheer size, structure and beauty it held was amazing. He glanced over the well-kept lawn and spotted an orchard, also well cared for. Being a squirrel, he was drawn to trees, and those appeared to be the very best. He idly wondered how many squirrel kits were ordered out and away from the trees. The thought brought back memories of himself and Serian doing such things while scouts were being trained. The duo had constantly interrupted the training only to be scolded by their parents and the Sargent in charge.

As the group was led inside, Quiston said he'd find them sleeping quarters and inform the Abbess and rushed off. They stood in silence until a full-grown male mouse turned the corner and saw them. His fur was brown and his caramel eyes lightened as he caught sight of them. Rushing forward, he scooped Mintflower into his arms and hugged her.

"Ach! My Minty! I was so afraid I'd lost you two for good! Where'd you go my budding rose? You're mother was worried sick."

The mousemaid squirmed from the elder's paws and held up a pebble she's kept from the stream.

"Dinkle and I went looking for pebbles for Pebble at the stream, Papa!"

The mouse looked firmly at his daughter.

"Now Mintflower, you know you're not allowed to leave the abbey alone!" He scolded. "Especially in these past few days with such word of vermin in our woods! What would I have done if I'd lost you?"

He then turned to Dinkle, still in Jedrek's paws.

"And you, young tramp! What would I tell your mother if you'd fallen in and drowned?"

The little mouse cub looked ashamed, but he could help but squeak out in protest.

"I didn't dwoned!" He said with a young look of indignation. "Mr Jeddy save me, he did! You tell mama I'm good cub! Me no dwoned! Jeddy otter and Mr Grumpy Squirrel save me!"

The mouse sighed, taking his son into his paws. Cearul's ears drooped slightly as he caught Jedrek's look of amusement at the childish statement.

"Now Dinkle, that's not very nice." He looked at the otter and squirrel. "I'm sorry for the trouble they caused you. I've been running crazy since my wife gave birth to our third." He sighed, looking at his cubs. "I have no idea how we'll manage three when these two slip away. My name's Cohol."

Jedrek smiled, bowing slightly.

"I'm Furgal's brother, if ye know him. The name's Jedrek."

Cohol nodded, then looked to the squirrel. Without voicing it, he could tell why his cubs thought the squirrel was so grumpy, as he wore a long frown and deep gloomy eyes that had an unrelenting look.

"Cearul." The squirrel stated before the mouse could ask.

Quiston returned just then, smiling as Cohol thanked the pair again and made his cubs bid goodnight, then rushed them off to bed. He turned to the squirrel and otter, crossing his arms.

"Right. We have one room with two beds, if you don't mind sharing. The dormitory is crowded around this time of season, so we've made some adjustments."

"That's fine with me." Jedrek said, cheery as ever.

"I'll manage." Cearul answered, casting a look on the gleeful otter before rolling his eyes and crossing his arms.

Quiston was about to turn and lead them away when he caught sight of Cearul's bloodied bandage as his cloak moved away from his arm. The squirrel noticed his mistake too late and quickly returned his arm to the shield of his cloak..

"My!" The Redwaller took the squirrel's arm into his paws before Cearul could object and began looking it over. "Are you alright? What happened? Was it vermin?"

"Not..." Cearul pulled his arm away. "Exactly. A pike, really."

"But are you okay?" Quiston asked with concern. "I could get Brother Rush to look at it for you. He's our healer. From the looks of it, there's some pretty bad damage."

Cearul gripped the scarred wrist on his wounded arm.

"I'm fine." He said sternly then looked accusingly at the floor. "I've dealt with more painful things before."

"Well..."The Redwaller shrugged, turning to lead them to their room. "If you say so. I still think Brother Rush should look at it."

Cearul grit his teeth.

"I'm fine."

Quiston sighed.

"Your choice."

* * *

That night Cearul, again, did not sleep easy. All his wounds, old and new throbbed in painful memory of what he had suffered. His head was full of Kirndoul's sneering and Vurshal's cold laughing. Tossing and turning, he finally gave up on sleep. He spent most of the night staring out the window of the room and listening to Jedrek's snores.

Thinking of what he had to do, nearly drove him mad. This was a place of peace, it didn't deserve for its prized weapon to be stolen. He knew now what Quiston had lacked about him that Cearul was so used to. It was experience, war, blood everything that he and most beasts he knew had seen. Quiston had never experienced pain like those of the north had, like Cearul had. Why would he? Redwall was an Abbey, not a field of battle or besieged fortress. Beasts were protected from the outside here.

The squirrel sighed and put his head in his paws.

Redwall was everything that he'd ever longed for, he could tell that already.

Yet this was the place the wildcat wanted him to betray. Cearul was painful aware that they would never trust him after he did that. He could never hope to visit this place of peace. They would throw him out. Involuntary tears came to his eyes and he quickly brushed them away. He was not weak. He had to do this for his friends' lives. Nothing, absolutely nothing was worth more than the lives of his friends. Nobeast could change his mind of that.

He looked down near the orchard and blinked his eyes in surprise. A squirrel and a mouse stood there, conversing with each other. The squirrel wore a plain yellow garb, like that which a slave would wear. He had brown fur and Cearul could sense rebellion in his motions. The mouse was dressing in armor, a red tunic beneath the shining metal. He had light brown fur and the squirrel picked up a tone of sadness radiating from him. Both appeared to be somewhat transparent, but as alive as anybeast. What were they doing there?

He rubbed his eyes and looked again, harder this time.

They were gone.

Wondering what he had seen, the squirrel went back to his bed and curled up, giving one last try to rest. For the rest of the night there was no nightmares, no flaming rose, no torturing wildcat's laughter, no pain, no torment. That night, he slept the best that he had in weeks. Little did he know that those same two beasts outside, were watching over him in his peaceful slumber.


	7. Mishell

**Mishell **

* * *

Morning found Cearul at a large table, various breakfast foods laid out before him. Jedrek sat beside him, dumping bowl after requested bowl of hotroom soup and creamed muffins into his stomach. His outright and cheerful nature opposed Cearul's current mood of gloom. The otter wasn't the only beast sitting by him like that either. Jedrek's brother, Furgal and his friends sat about too and in the same happy mood. Actually, the entire room was filled with such creatures. Redwall's spirit was one of strong peace and joy and it floated about Cearul in annoyance.

He eyes the meal before him skeptically and with great criticism, not touching a thing. He was hungry of course, but he had starved in the past, so it wasn't a nightmare. His pride and thoughts drove him from the necessity. He wondered if Quad and Serian were alright. They'd probably scold him for not wishing to eat.

The though flared something in him. Though he had always fought the mouse and squirrel on such things, he couldn't help but been found of the fuss. A sigh soon escaped him and he knew he had lost the mental battle and hesitantly reach for a scone. he knew in his heart that he would do anything for those two, even if it meant eating a little. But as he went to take a bite of his scone when an elbow knocked it from his paw. He flashed his eyes on the offending beast beside him hotly and hissed when Jedrek smirked.

"Sorry mate!" The otter said hastily, adding another scone to the squirrel's bare plate. "I got a little excited."

"Yes, you did." Cearul said in a low tone, taking the new scone up. He hoped that the attention was no longer on him and that Jedrek would continue chatting with his fellows, but that hope proved to be false.

"So where d'ye 'ail from, squirrel?" Furgal asked suddenly.

Cearul frowned. No wish of his would ever be granted would it?

"The north." He stated impassively

"North?" Another otter called Felise asked. "Run into any vermin up yonder?"

"Yes." The squirrel said so sullenly, Jedrek gave him a quick, conderned look. "I did."

"So it's true!" Felise said eagerly. "The tensions up there _are_ tight. They'll snap soon no doubt."

Furgal nodded in agreement.

"Aye. N'that'll me war."

"We may 'ave t'send Conrad t'go n'help!" An otter called Gurroc stated. "Our warrior would be of use!"

Jedrek shook his head and gave the otter a light cuff on the head.

"Conrad is our protector. I don't see 'ow sendin' 'im _away_ at such a time will 'elp."

"Plus we've 'ad little proof of the vermin formin'." Felise added. "Sure Cearul saw some, but that don't mean that they're allies with the ones we 'ear of. Those 'tensions' could simply be wild tales!"

"That's probably true." Furgal said slowly. "The ones are squirrely friend saw was probably just shadows!"

"True." Felise finished, biting into a scone.

Evidently, they had unknowingly said the wrong thing in Cearul's presence.

"The tensions have torn a long time ago." The squirrel said suddenly, slamming his paw on the table glaring at the she-otter. "There is proof, and I have lived it."

The otters went silent at that, not exactly understanding the squirrel's statement. Several beasts from the other tables turned to look at the knew it was painfully time to tell the lie that he'd wanted to avoid. He curled his paw into a shaking fist, keeping his glare on Felise. At least it wasn't a complete lie.

"I am living proof." He said in a dark tone. "I was enslaved by a wildcat Lord who is forming a large vermin army. My family were war beasts and died in battle. I was captured and forced to serve the wildcat as a slave, the things I saw and had done to me were more then proof. They were solid, physical and painful evidence. What I cannot understand is how you all live so peacefully and happy here down south when beasts like you suffer up north."

Jedrek put a paw on the squirrel's tensed shoulder. When the beast winced, he quickly drew it away. He had forgotten the incident with the pike already.

"They hear little of what goes on up north, Cearul. Beasts here are shielded from the things you have suffered."

"Obviously." The squirrel said, finally breaking his glare on the startled she-otter. "Where I come from we scrape and search for food to fill us. The wildcats have taken everything, leaving those who are not enslaved to die of starvation. Yet here..." He tapped his plate. "...here you eat without care or rationing."

Jedrek sighed.

"Cearul..."

"Seal it, Jedrek!" The angered squirrel growled, standing and boring his hate-filled eyes into the otters. "Why should you all live so happily when others are tortured without mercy? Why should they be the ones to suffer while you sit there and make merry? What makes you so different from us? We are equal and if not better then you!"

Jedrek stood up also, gently taking Cearul's arm in his paw to calm him.

"Calm down!" He whispered sincerely.

But the squirrel turned his ear away and torn his arm from his grip, leaving the large room in a huff. He'd done the first step to what the wildcat wanted and it made his stomach twist into knots of anger and hate. Before being captured, he had been a headstrong squirrel, yes, but not vengeful. His time with the wildcats had changed that inside him. Now he wanted nothing more then to make them suffer as he did.

he really meant the questions he had asked. Why had he endured so much in his life while most beasts here had never seen hardship? Why had he lost both parents and now maybe his friends too? All he had ever wanted was peace! Why was he not allowed to touch it?

He walked outside and began to wander the grounds of the Abbey. Unlike last night, the abbeybeasts were now scattered about, working busily, talking or playing. Cearul was more or less oblivious to it all, which is what made him miss the fact that there was a young squirrelmaid carrying a basket of apples from the orchard to the kitchens. He collided with her head on, spilling the apples and making them both topple over in a heap.

"Good grief!" The squirrelmaid gasped, rubbing a spot where she had hit her head in the fall. "Can't you watch where you're going _oaf_?"

Cearul was rubbing his healing arm that had hit the ground hard and the pain had just redoubled. Now that his already 'cheerful' mood was blooming he growled as he replied.

"Why can't you?" He retorted, glancing up at the squirrel. He noted, very idly, that she was a very pretty beast. Even in her robes she seemed beautifully misplaced.

Her brown fur bristled at the crude remark and her emerald eyes sparked.

"It was your fault, you bloader!" She growled.

"Was it now?" Cearul shot back instantly, forgetting her beauty in her personality. "I think you should have been more careful, since you were the one toting a load! You should have made sure no one could run into you!"

"Really? Well you're the new beast, so you should be more careful since you don't know how things go!"

"Well since I'm so new, you should have more consideration towards me!" Cearul challenged. "Perhaps the Abbess would like to hear of a rude squirrel such as yourself!"

The maiden gasped in fury as other beasts were soon gathering to watch.

"I am not rude!" She barked, paws in fists. "And just try to tell the Abbess and see what happens!"

Cearul stood up, brushing off his tunic in annoyance.

"Fine." He said hotly. "What's your name?"

"Mishell, and don't you forget it!"

"Likewise to you, Mishell." The squirrel retorted, unconsciously helping the maid up. "I'm Cearul and I _will_ be going to the Abbess over this!"

Mishell stamped her paw and pointed a daring claw in his face. At a quick glance he could easily tell that she was a hard worker, for her paws were rough looking. This lass was indeed strange.

"You won't! I may be a peaceful Redwall maid to you, but I come from the far south, a fighting land!"

Cearul pushed her paw away and pointed his own claw, tired of her scwabbling. Why could he never find even a small sliver of peace, even in a place well known for it? Why was he so cursed?

"And I hail from the harsh north!" He snapped in frustration. "I've seen and felt things you could never imagine in your puny brain! Indeed, the north is far more feirce then any southern place you came from!"

Mishell looked ready to burst in anger.

"That is not true!"

"Yes it is!"

"No it's not!"

"Yes it is!"

"Not!"

"Is!"

"Not!"

"Is"

"Not"

"It..._Is_!

Finally Mishell snarled and marched off, tired of fighting. She call one last 'not' over her shoulder as she went, thinking that she had won. However Cearul's last line stung her pride to the marrow.

"Don't forget your apples, you peaceful Redwaller!"

She turned smartly around to catch sight of the squirrel storming back though the Abbey doors. Muttering something extremely unladylike, she set about picking up her apples.

* * *

Lord Kirndoul purred quietly as he glared at the squirrel before him. He caressed his goblet, watching with keen eyes, as his prisoner watched tiredly and with thirst in his eyes. But unlike what he did with Cearul, the cat had no intention of vanquishing his captives hunger or need for water.

Serian stood wearily before the warlord, his forepaws chained before him. He was tired and weak from lack of food, but his eyes were stern and calm as he looked at the floor in front of him. He'd been standing like this for nearly two hours now, with the Lord throwing questions at him about the army, their commander, their mission and Cearul.

"And what are their numbers?" Kirndoul asked picking idly at some fruit crystallized in honey.

Serian sighed, looking away from the food tiredly.

"I told you. I don't know."

The cat hissed politely, dabbing his lips on a white kerchief. He raised and eyebrow at the captive and looked back down to his candied meal.

"Come now, you must have some idea." He looked at the squirrel through blank, slitted eyes. "You're a soldier after all!"

"But I don't know how many of us there are." Serian stated truthfully. "I never attended the meetings. They were for the officers."

Kirndoul spread his sharp, black claws, flexing his paw experimentally.

"You mean you have absolutely no idea?" He questioned.

The squirrel nodded.

"Yes Lord." He said in a low tone. "I really don't know."

The wildcat frowned slightly, reaching for his goblet of wine.

"I suppose Cearul would know, wouldn't he? Being one of the top scouts and messengers."

Serian's mouth went dry. He didn't respond because he knew it was true. Cearul had more often then not been in the major meetings. He wouldn't sell his friend out like that.

"Silence is consent." Kirndoul purred, sipping the wine, relishing the captive's concerned look. "I suppose I'll have to speak to him."

"Please-" The squirrel began desperately before catching himself and falling silent. He returned his panicked and dejected eyes to looking at his paws.

The Lord leaned forward, resting his striped elbows on the table.

"Hm? Was there something you wanted to say, Serian? I assure you I won't have you tortured for saying your part."

The prisoner kept silent for a moment before looking up.

"It wasn't my own torture I was worried of, Lord Kirdoul." He said in a strained tone. "I was going to plea for you not to torture Cearul anymore. His mind can't take it, he'll snap Sire."

The wildcat smirked.

"Such bonds of loyalty you woodlanders share!" He replaced his wine on the table and stood up, towering over the prisoner. "Luckily for you both, Cearul is not here for me to do anything to and I agreed not to bring you any pain while he is gone."

Serian looked at him in complete and utter shock.

"Cearul's gone?" His eyes held slight hope. "Is he free?"

"Free?" Kirndoul mused quietly. "Well, I suppose he is in a type of freedom. He is doing a task for me. You and Quad are my reassurance that this task gets done. However, I did agree to not harm either of you until he returns."

Realization soon replaced Serian's hopes. He bowed his head. He felt as if his chest had cracked and grown suddenly heavy.

"You've blackmailed him."

The wildcat walked past his downhearted captive and stepped next to the window, watching his gladiators practice in an enclosed courtyard, watched keenly by his archers.

"Blackmail is a harsh word, squirrel. I merely was given the tools to use at my gain and I did."

"What did you make him do?" Serian asked, stepping closer to the cat. "You...you didn't..."

"Force him to kill a beast? No!" Lord Kirndoul said with a grin, turning back to the prisoner. "Cearul is worth much more then a mere assassin. But we shall speak no more of this."

"But-"

"No more Serian." The wildcat said, returning to his seat and calling for the gaurd. "You'll be returned to your cell now. I have matters to attend to."

With that the wildcat guard grabbed the squirrel's shoulder, his claws digging into Serian's flesh. The squirrel winced at the pain as he was pulled away and escorted down the corridor. Once they were clear of the room the cat released the prisoner, shoving him forward. They came to the dungeon stairs and the squirrel's hear sank. He wanted to be anywhere besides locked in his cell for endless days. At least Quad was with him, he wondered how anybeast could survive being caged alone. He wondered how Cearul had endured it, being separated and worried for his friends, then tortured.

They stopped in front of his cell as the cat unlocked the door. He pushed the captive inside and chained his paws high to the wall before leaving.

Quad sat silently in the corner, paws chained in like manner. Serian knew he was beyond worried for Cearul, he was a mess. Captivity was proving to be a lot on the fiery mouse. The guards often rebuked his food because of his outrageous nature and demanding questions towards his lost friend.

"What'd they want?" The mouse asked in a gruff voice.

Serian frowned.

"Things about the army and commander." He sighed, putting the back of his head to the wall. "Cearul's gone."

"What?" Quad gasped, meeting the squirrel's eyes with his own heavy ones. "What do you mean he's gone? What did they do to him? Is he...?" The captive mouse began to struggle in his chains for freedom, growling in anger. "If they've hurt him again I'll _kill_ them!"

"Quad! Calm down, he'd not dead!" Serian said, trying to quiet the mouse so the guards wouldn't come. Quad stopped, tears beading his eyes. "He's not dead." The squirrel repeated, feeling for the mouse.

"W-what?"

"He's running an errand for Kirndoul. He's not here. The wildcat's blackmailed him with us."

"What does he have to do?" Quad asked with a frown.

"I don't know." Serian said despairingly. "I just hope he's okay..."

Silence followed the unfinished sentence as both captives allowed their minds to delve into the situation. Both worried for their friend, knowing his trying personality could lead to devastating horror. They'd seen his anger and hate before, saw the fights he gave and the fits of fury he threw. They knew that deep within him was just a little kit wondering why his mother and father left him. Indeed, he'd snapped and had caused blood to be spilled, yet Serian and Quad would never forget how the squirrel had soon after broke down into tears.

They understood him better then anyone and that's why they feared the greatest for him.


End file.
